Animal Therapy
by Trubie74
Summary: Nick Fury has had enough, there's only one person left to call. The only man who could possibly have the patience to handle this situation. The only one who will know what to do. When Loki is banished to S.H.E.I.L.D. by Odin, who could possibly step in and help our favorite God of Mischief work through his family issues? Maybe an X-man? Who knows. Rated T to be safe. PLEASE REVIEW!


**This is my first story for the Avengers and or X-men so we'll see how this plays out. I don't really have a plan for where to go with this, just a general idea. Will hopefully be Loki/OC but I'm not sure if I want it to be more of a friendship type thing or not. If there are any other ships you would like to see (Stony, Clintasha, Pepperoni, Science Bros. etc.) let me know! I live for your input. Literally.**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Marvel.**

**Animal Therapy**

**Chapter 1:**

Nick Fury had finally had enough.

First several of his best agents and scientists were either murdered in front of him or hijacked, this of course was quickly followed by his entire facility collapsing. Then, he's put in charge of gathering a group of misfit superheroes, each with varying degrees of personal issues. And to top it off, he had to deal with an invading army of evil crazy space cyborgs under the command of a God who also happens to be the mental equivalent of the Mad Hatter. Only slightly more diabolical and less into tea parties and top hats.

But Nick was the Director for a reason.

He dealt with all these things like any super-spy would. He kicked ass and got everyone's shit together. Long story short, they won the war, got their people back and than proceeded to rub Loki's stupid, perfect face in it. Thor put a muzzle on him and they went on there merry way. Everybody went home and that was that. The End.

Until three days ago, that is.

Nick Fury is standing, feet shoulder width apart, back straight, with his hands casually clasped behind his back. Off to his right, ten, maybe fifteen civilians peek out the window of a hot dog joint pushing and shoving in a desperate attempt to take in the scene while S.H.E.I.L.D agents try to regain control of the situation. The air is both tense and laced with self-conscious apology as Nick Fury, Director of S.H.E.I.L.D. stares at the current bane of his existence.

Thor.

God of Thunder.

Wielder of the mighty hammer Mjolnir.

Son of Odin and heir to the great throne of Asgard itself...

Was currently holding himself as only a God can while surreptitiously removing bits and pieces of hot dog and ruptured ketchup packets from both his and his companions's hair. Much to the evident irritation of his companion. He looks up and grins hesitantly at Fury. The poor bastard's bright flashy light mode of transportation had landed him smack dab in the middle of a hot dog truck. The pathetic excuse for a driver had barely made it into the diner parking lot when the truck exploded, raining mini weenies all over the damn place. Sometimes Fury really wondered why he got saddled with all the crazies. First Stark, than the Avengers and now this? He must have done something seriously stupid in his last life to deserve this he thinks as the pair make their way over.

But the sheer idiocy of the entire situation isn't what has Fury's panties in a twist.

Oh no, it was the tall, dark and psychotic guy with the weird horny helmet at Thor's side that had him pissed beyond reason.

And now four hours, three cups of highly caffeinated coffee, and a headache that could rival getting socked in the face by the Hulk later, Fury's here. Glaring through the plate glass window at S.H.E.I.L.D.'s newest inhabitant.

Loki.

And all because the almighty Odin, All-father and King of Asgard, thought it would be a nice learning experience if his least favorite son was left to be dealt with by the humans. Cause Loki is totally our responsibility. And we totally don't have anything better to do with our time besides babysit the God of Mischief.

Nick Fury had FINALLY had enough.

None of his agents were willing to take a crack at this guy and Fury sure as hell wasn't going to deal with this shit any longer than necessary. Time to call in the back-up. The heavy artillery. The OTHER crazies.

"Hill."

"Yes Director?"

"Get me Charles Xavier on the line."

"Right away sir."

As Loki leers up at Fury from his place on his knees in the middle of his cell, Fury can't help but pray that Xavier will have something up his sleeve because Fury sure as hell doesn't.

**PLEASE REVIEW! Spelling corrections, criticisms, and suggestions are always welcome! **

**- Trubie**


End file.
